


Something You Can Say

by helens78



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Community: xmfc_bingo, M/M, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Epic Bromance World Tour moment.  Charles comes back to the hotel room earlier than Erik expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something You Can Say

**Author's Note:**

> For my [XMFC Bingo](http://xmfc-bingo.dreamwidth.org) card: Pining.

"You're back early," Erik said. Charles didn't even look at him; good. Erik was trying to get used to talking to other people, chatter for no purpose other than to fill silence, but it still didn't come naturally to him. And of all people, Charles ought to have been first to pick up the things Erik had left unsaid. _Was it quick this time? You don't smell of cologne or perfume. Did it go well? Or did you come home unsatisfied altogether?_

"It doesn't feel early," Charles groaned, heading for his single bed and sitting heavily at the end of it. He untied his shoes, slipping them off and tucking the laces neatly inside. His jacket ended up flung in the general direction of his valet case; his shirt was already unbuttoned halfway down his chest, his singlet showing underneath. His vest followed the jacket, but missed, puddling down on the floor, and with that, Charles was finished, flopping back onto the bed with a grunt.

A smile made itself felt in the corners of Erik's mouth, and habit sent it away again, the expression covered back over before Charles could turn his head to look. "That bad?" Erik pressed. "You seemed to be doing all right for yourself when I left."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you," Charles said. He draped an arm across his face, covering his eyes. "It was fine. He was lovely. I just couldn't--"

Erik blinked. "Couldn't?"

"Well, of course I _could_ have, please," Charles scoffed. He peered out from under his arm, frowning at Erik as though Erik had made a deliberate attack on Charles's manhood.

_And if I had, then what? Would you want to prove me wrong? You so often do._ "Ah. Then...?"

Charles shook his head, propped himself up on his elbows, and glanced down his body, pointing and flexing his toes. The gold-capped argyle socks were absurdly fussy, but no surprise to Erik, not really. "Artifice," Charles pronounced, wriggling back onto the bed, crawling backwards until he could rest his head on the pillow. "I'm sick of it."

"Isn't that what those sorts of games are all about, though? Making someone believe in something that isn't real. Something that won't be there in the morning."

"I'll grant you the latter, but the former--" Charles shook his head, turning on his side to face Erik, his head resting on his hand. Erik drew his knee up, letting his book rest against his thigh. He'd stripped down to his undershirt and traded trousers for pajama bottoms as soon as he'd come back to the room; he'd figured on a few hours of reading time, at least, and if nothing else, this recruiting trip had afforded him more than enough time to catch up on the classics he'd spent his childhood missing out on. All these evenings on his own; all these nights when Charles came back late, smiling and stinking of someone else and looking damnably, beautifully replete.

"It shouldn't be like that," Charles said quietly. "Games. Seduction. _Artifice_ ," he repeated. "When you want someone, it ought to be something you can say."

Erik could only hold Charles's gaze for so long. "I'm sorry your evening didn't work out as you'd hoped," he said quietly, turning back to his book.

"Yes," Charles said, the rustling of crisp, starched bed linens telling Erik he'd rolled onto his back once again. "I'm sorry, too."


End file.
